4. Red
The others always told us, until we could hear their voices every time we approached the market square. If we saw anyone with red upon their cheeks, Alandi and I were not ever to stare. It was a lesson to both of us, so ingrained that we both obeyed the admonition without even noticing that we were obeying.
"I bet there's a special playground in there," Alandi told me once as we crouched together by the wayside. The windows of this building were covered by thick brown curtains, which neither one of us was ever allowed to peer through although they blocked whatever was inside from our view.
"I bet there's a whole secret world," I responded. We were seven years old, and painfully curious.
One man went there all the time - the oldest man I ever knew. He greeted us every time we saw him, smiled too - always with that same sad look behind his eyes - and offer us extra treats whenever he happened to have extra to offer. There was only one thing he ever refused when we asked, and that was to show us what was inside.
And it was on a bright, warm day just after my seventh birthday that there was no-one watching us, and we were finally able to sneak up for a closer look. With one hand each pulling back a section of the barrier, we crouched just far enough so that we could still see what was within. And just before we looked, I struggled not to laugh. It was too exciting for words, this secret world we were both so sure would be revealed.
Suddenly there was pressure against my neck, and I was tugged upright by the back of my collar. Beside me, Alandi nearly cried out in alarm, and I saw that she was struggling wildly. Then - feeling ominously cautious - I looked up.
Maia is the one who raised Alandi and I after our mothers were taken away. Her hair is black and tangled, and dust lines her shoes and the hem of her skirt. She smiles often, but there is sadness behind her smile. On that day, though, her face was hard as a stone, and I could find no sign that she would ever relent. Even as our skin burned from the shock of her punishing hand, even as she scolded us until we cried, I did not regret that she had found us. Otherwise I would never have been able to look away from what we had seen.
We found some berries the next afternoon. They had taken a long time to ripen, but now they were delicious. But as I plucked one from the tree, I turned it over in my hand, and stared at its surface before deciding that I wasn't hungry. I didn't like the berries any more, and I hated that flawlessly crimson shade across their skin.